The Broken Horizon
by A Hopeless Wanderer
Summary: It takes a fair amount of persuasion to get Captain America to move in with the other Avengers. teamfic


Three months after the Avengers battled with the Chitauri, the invitations were sent.

Technically, they weren't _formal_ invitations- Tony Stark wasn't one to make a mountain of (what he thought to be) a molehill. That is, if you could consider renovating Stark Tower into a structure capable of housing Earth's mightiest heroes, including an occasionally big, green man and a Norse god, a molehill. Later, Stark would wave it off, claiming that he had only renovated after the damage Loki had caused, but the team appreciated it nonetheless.

So, after the last design manager vacated the building, Tony sent out the texts.

It was Thor who first accepted the invitation. After returning his brother to Asgard, the god had returned to Earth with little plans for the future. Jane still resided in New Mexico, so of course he had gone there first. But she was constantly busy with work, and Thor found himself missing his friends. When the text came, Thor was already packed.

Next came Clint, who had been between missions when he received the text. With the exception of Natasha, he hadn't been in contact with a single one of his teammates since they parted ways months before. The text from Stark came as a welcome surprise. Being the bachelor he was, Barton had left his dumpy SHIELD-provided apartment without any hesitation… After all, the billionaire claimed to have built an indoor range just for him.

With Clint came Natasha, because she was convinced that he couldn't function on his own (or so she claimed).

Bruce, as the other Avengers learned upon arrival, had already been living in the Tower. When the battle was over, Stark had invited him over to come work in his advanced laboratories. Having had nowhere else to stay, the physicist hesitantly accepted, and had been staying with Tony ever since.

The very last Avenger to move into the Tower was their leader himself.

Steve Rogers had been living in a small apartment in Brooklyn (SHIELD-issued, and very similar to Agent Barton's). After being defrosted, the super soldier had wanted nothing more than to return back to the world he'd left behind. He missed the New York of his time. Although Steve tried his hardest to integrate himself with the new society, he felt completely alone.

His new apartment was furnished like the one he'd shared with Bucky- nearly bare, with a paper calendar on the wall, a desk in the corner, and an icebox that had to be kicked occasionally in order to work. Granted, it was a bit more modern (he could afford a bed now, as well as some basic appliances).

When the text had come, Steve thought a bomb was about to detonate in his duffle bag. It took two hours for the "man out of time" to realize that it wasn't a small explosive, but rather an advanced-looking telephone that SHIELD had given to him for contact purposes (because what didn't the super-soldier own that wasn't provided by the agency?). He had thrown it in with his clothes upon arrival home without a second glance.

After finally reading the text, Steve waited two weeks to reply. Granted, he didn't know _how_ to reply on the futuristic contraption, so he just ignored the message. Somehow, the super soldier felt that he _had_ to stay in his apartment. It was currently the only tie that held him to his era. By leaving the 40s-esque replica, Rogers was afraid that he would be severing the only connection he had to his old life.

So he continued on with his monotonous existence (gym, sketching, little sleep, running, more running)… that is, until he ran into one of his teammates in the park. Quite _literally_ ran into him.

Steve plowed into Bruce, having not been paying attention as he ran one afternoon. "Gosh, I'm so sorry," he spluttered, reaching to help up the man he had knocked over. Of course, it was then that he noticed exactly _who_ he had collided with.

"It's quite alright, Captain. Nice to see you," the physicist replied, firmly shaking hands with his teammate. "How've you been?"

The pair made idle conversation for a little under five minutes before Bruce dropped the question.

"No," Captain America said simply, "I am quite content living on my own at the moment. Thank you, though, Dr. Banner."

The Hulk waved him off, telling him to think it over and that he "really should start calling him Bruce". So, they parted ways. Bruce, back to the Tower now teeming with superheroes. Steve, back to his empty apartment.

But Bruce was not the only person whose offer he was forced to reject. After a week identical to each of its recent predecessors, Steve was pounding on a bag in the gym when he was approached by the second teammate.

Despite being a very capable SHIELD agent and a particularly skilled undercover worker, Clint Barton was not discrete as he came to confront his captain. He saddled over, tapped Steve on the back, and ducked in time for the surprised punch that followed.

"Hey, Cap," he drawled casually, leaning against the large punching bag that was still swaying from Captain America's force. "Listen, we were wondering-"

"No," Steve said quickly, knowing all too well what the archer was going to say. "I apologize, Agent Barton, but I already have a place to stay." He flushed, his sweaty, blonde hair falling into his face.

Clint was prepared for this, though. "Cap, c'mon. You're the last person left, we've all moved in. You'd have your own floor and everything. We need you there!"

But Steve still declined, and stalked out of the gym before Barton could fully react. "Start calling us by our names, at least!" Clint called out as a last attempt.

That night, as Steve stared out of his grimy window, he had never felt lonelier. The skyline looked like broken teeth, disturbing him with the extreme difference from the skyline he used to gaze upon in his day. And there, standing out as the tallest building of all, was Stark Tower. It glowed artificially against the dimming horizon.

_You can't join them_, the back of Steve's mind reminded him, _this is all you have left. You can't leave your past behind._ And it was true. Steve was completely alone. His only comforts were his memories, memories from moments that seemed like merely months ago, rather than over a half century. All of his friends were dead, and all he had were their memories. How could he hold onto his memories if he didn't surround himself with how things used to be?

Steve was snapped from his musings by a knock on the door. _Who could be here_? He opened the door, and it took a moment for his overly-exhausted brain to register who stood behind it. "What are you guys doing here?"

There, holding multiple bags that smelled of warm food (something he hadn't bothered to acquire in weeks), were the Avengers… well, the other five of them. Steve ran a hand wearily over the stubble on his jaw. "We brought dinner, Capsicle. Make room." With that, one very average-looking Tony Stark pushed his way past the super soldier to place the bags on the table.

The others walked in as well, visibly frowning as they took in their leader's miniscule apartment. "Jeez, Cap, this is where you live?" Clint, ever the conversationalist, turned in a 360-degree-motion.

Thor, who is already gnawing on an eggroll from the bag, sits on the edge of his bed. "Captain, this apartment is small," he says, surprised. "On Asgard, the most important of rulers have their own palaces. Nothing like your residence." Steve supposes he should be flattered, but the compliment is somewhat diluted. His apartment was fine, no matter what anyone told him.

The Avengers sat in a circle-formation, some having to resort to the floor for a seat because there was only the desk chair and the bed to sit on. They made small-talk, mostly for Steve's benefit. For once, the super soldier felt at ease.

That is, until the bomb was dropped.

"Captain, when we head back tonight, you're coming with us," Bruce said softly, meeting Steve's eyes from across the room. "You can't live here anymore. We need you at the Tower."

Steve shuddered at the prospect of living in that monstrous atrocity that ruined the city skyline. He shook his head dejectedly. "I'm fine staying here in Brooklyn. If we have a meeting, I'll commute."

It was turning into a stare-down. Captain America could feel the others' eyes on him, and he swallowed compulsively. "Steve," Natasha said, "you can't stay here. This…" Her voice trailed off as she once again took in the state of the room they were in. It was a one-room flat, with a bed and a desk on one side and a beat-up oven and refrigerator on the other. There was a small bathroom by the door. The ceiling was covered in chipped paint and the walls were bare, save for an outdated calendar hanging beside the desk. It didn't look like a home- hell, it barely looked habitable.

"Is there something wrong with my apartment, Agent Romanoff?" Steve's tone was clipped.

Tony snorted. "This is barely a room- there is no way in hell this is an apartment." Rage flared within the super soldier, but he tamped it down. This was _Howard's_ son. He couldn't hit Howard's son.

Standing, Steve collected the scattered paper plates and tossed them in the garbage bin by the unused oven. "This is a SHIELD-issued apartment. I have stayed in a similar place my entire life, and there is nothing wrong with where I live."

It seemed to dawn on the rest of his so-called team why exactly he stayed. However, their reaction was completely unexpected. "Oh, Steve," Natasha whispered slowly, gazing upon him with the worst combination of sympathy and guilt that the Captain had ever seen. "You miss it, don't you? The past?"

Steve shook his head. "You don't understand. Not of you understand." But they _did_. And before them, sitting on the cold floor of an empty apartment, they finally understood. He was the Man Out of Time. "This is all I have left."

In a split second, he was being crushed between five (yes even Tony Stark himself) bodies pressed against his in the world's most unorthodox group-hug. Steve's heart swelled momentarily. Maybe he wasn't as alone as he had first believed.

He moved into the Avengers Tower the following morning.


End file.
